Don't Die On Me
by omalleyanatomy26
Summary: A Jump the Shark one shot of Dean helping Sam stop from bleeding to death. PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW!


**Okay, I just had to do a Jump the Shark one shot with hurt Sam, lol, so sue me! :) Sorry if I don't get the exact wordings in the begining. **

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Sam moaned as the blood dripped from the his side and from his arms. He heard Dean fighting in the distance, but things were begining to feel fuzzy. So far away.

"Dean!" He called out helplessly, his voice weak and barely audible. "Dean..." he was fading, and fading fast. Things were already a blur. How much blood had he lost?

Dean looked up in horror and saw the dull look in his brother's eyes. Anger build up inside of him when he saw how much blood was dripping into the bowl. _Those sick sonofbitches...bastards...if they weren't already dead... _

He tried to shut off his emotions as he rushed to untie his brother. Sam moaned weakly, feeling the blood, the strength, go out of him.

"Here ya go," Dean said softly. He helped his brother up. He grabbed some nearby paper towels. "Here, put some pressure on that." he said, nodding to the wounds.

"Thanks," Sam gasped weakly and Dean looked at him seriously.

"What else is family for?" He asked and Sam gave a weak smile in return. Dean grabbed some more paper towels and helped put the pressure on Sam's wound.

He helped his brother to the nearest chair and stared at the wound that was on the side of the chest.

"Let's see how bad this is," he muttered as he lifted Sam's shirt. Sam winced and stiffled his groan. "Sorry," Dean quickly apologized as he touched the open wound. His face flushed with anger as he saw the blood dripping from his brother's body. He grabbed the rest of the paper towels and applied pressure there as well. Sam was shaking now, his eyes still closing.

"Take it easy, kiddo," Dean breathed. "Take it easy. Here, let's get you to lay down some." He put Sam's arm around his neck and helped carry him to the couch in the other room. He figured Sam was way too weak to walk up a flight of stairs. Sam moaned as Dean laid him on the soft cushions. "There ya go." He sighed.

"Adam..."Sam's voice was weak as he spoke again. "Adam was...real..."

"I know." Dean pursed his lips. "I found his body."

Sam closed his eyes.

"He....they said they ate him alive..died screaming..."He shuddered as more blood seemed to drip out of him. Dean held pressure to the wounds tighter and his eyes darkened at the new information.

"Bastards, if I hadn't already killed them..."

"I know," Sam said quietly. "I know." He shivered and Dean straightened up.

"I'm gonna have to stitch up this hole, Sammy, before you lose more blood," he told his brother and Sam nodded, while closing his eyes.

"Just do it and get it out of the way," he sighed. Dean stood up.

"Keep the pressure on the wound," he told Sam. "I'm gonna get the supplies from the car."

Sam could barely nod his head. Soon he was closing his eyes. He was so tired, so tired of fighting. All the energy, along with the blood, seemed to be draining from him. He felt...peaceful though. More peaceful than he had felt in ages. All the worry, the anger, the desire for revenge slowly started to vanish from him. His breathing got weaker and weaker. It could all end now, if only he just gave up....

Dean quickly rushed back inside with the supplies, but his eyes widened in horror and fear as he saw Sam's eyes closed. He couldn't see his brother breathing. He looked limp, and well...dead...

"Sammy?!" He bellowed and rushed over to him. No, no, no. Not after everything. Not after all this. Just _no. _This couldn't be happening. He wasn'g going to be too late.

A moan came from Sam's closed lips and Dean sighed in relief as he sank into the chair next to the couch, his body shaking. Sam's eyes fluttered open weakly.

"What...what happened?"

"Don't do that again," Dean scolded. "Don't scare the shit out of me like that."

"What happened?" Honest confusion flickered in Sam's eyes.

"I thought,"Dean swallowed. "I thought you were dead."

Sam paused before answering quietly.

"I kind of wish that I was."

Dean stared at him.

"I didn't just hear you say that," he said, his voice shaking. "You're not yourself Sammy."

"Everything's so peaceful," Sam murmured. "So...free...if I just gave up I could have that feeling forever... So tired of fighting Dean. So tired of feeling angry all the time, constantly scared of losing you. So tired of it all."

Dean stared at him, fear flickering in his eyes. His brother really wanted to just die? It really came to that?

"Sam, I don't want to hear you talking like that," he said softly. "Dying's not the answer."

Sam sighed.

"I know it's not. I just wondered if it would have been easier just to give up. Just not to fight..."

"Promise me you'll _never _give up Sam!" Dean's voice was sharp. "I don't like hearing you say this. I didn't go to hell just to lose you again. I'll be damned if I lose you twice." As he lifted the shirt again to study the wound on the side he poured some alcholole on it Sam winced and so did Dean, as if he felt the pain himself. Sam bit his lip as the stitches went in. Quickly and carefully Dean sewed him up, handing him the bottle of liquir. "I can handle a lot of things, Sammy," Dean told his brother. "I've been to hell and back, literly, this year. I've found out I started the apocolaypse." He closed his eyes. "I know there's one thing I couldn't stand, that wold be too much for me. And that would be losing you."

Finally he finished the wound on the side and move to the arms where some flesh had been torn for them.

Sam closed his eyes, breathing heavily. He was amazed what it did to him, hearing Dean say that. Knowing that despite everything Dean still loved him.

"I'm sorry," he murmured weakly. "For everything that's happened...to us...for everything that is happening." Dean stared at him slowly.

"Don't mention it," he muttered. "Just don't talk about dying again, okay? I'll be honest with you Sam, it scares the shit out of me when I hear you talk like that."

"Sorry," Sam murmured as he started to sit up. Dean helped him too. "But still...thank you."

"It was nothing," Dean answered. "Bobby could have done a better stitching job."

"No, I meant thank you," Sam corrected him. "For staying here...for not leaving me, even though I haven't exactly been the easiest person to get along with."

Dean stared at him, unsure of what to say at the moment. Than he smiled and repeated himself.

"What else is family for?"

Sam smiled weakly back and closed his eyes, his mind drifting back to the brother he had never met, and would never meet, and to the brother who would never leave him...

**Kind of a weak ending, but still-I hope some of it was good! **


End file.
